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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655562">Speed Dial</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice'>HopeCoppice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Dowserverse [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dowserverse, M/M, Other, Warlock has an angel and a demon on speed dial, a quiet chat, explanations are demanded</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:55:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655562</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Warlock seems to have an angel and a demon on speed dial. His friends might need an explanation.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Warlock Dowling, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley &amp; Warlock Dowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Dowserverse [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>265</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Speed Dial</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Apparently I can't stop. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was Monty who sought him out, the weekend after Brother Francis’ visit. <em> Aziraphale’s </em> visit. Warlock took one look at him and knew what was about to happen; he’d been expecting to be questioned. Honestly, it was a miracle - perhaps even a <em> real </em>one - that nobody had asked him about it before. It was Saturday, though, and the other boys were off playing rugby, so perhaps it made sense that Monty had chosen that moment to raise the subject. It was just the two of them in the dorm, so maybe the others had all decided Warlock was more likely to open up. Maybe it was just Monty, seeing an opportunity and taking it. Either way, he looked up from his half-hearted attempt to badger Crowley into helping him with his Latin homework via text-</p><p><em> Sorry, you’ve got to at least give it a go first. <a id="return1" name="return1"></a>Illegitimi non carborundum<sup>[<a href="#note1">1</a>]</sup>, </em>Crowley had responded, and Warlock had scoffed,</p><p>
  <em> Even I know that’s not real Latin, </em>
</p><p>-as Monty settled on the next bed over and cleared his throat awkwardly.</p><p>“Dowling. Dowser. Dowsing-rod.”</p><p>“Something you wanted, Monty?” Warlock raised an eyebrow. “Or are you just workshopping me a new nickname for the fun of it? ‘Cos even I know there’s more interesting stuff to do around here on a Saturday.”</p><p>“Yeah. I, er. Do you have a minute? I wanted a word.”</p><p> </p><p>Warlock tucked his phone back into his bedside table, where it began to buzz with what was, hopefully, his beloved Nanny caving to the pressure of not getting an instant response and sending him the answers after all.</p><p>“Sure, go ahead.”</p><p>“That… what happened the other day. With Duffers and Wellies, that was… that was weird, right?”</p><p>“I guess. Kinda awkward how we all walked in, sure.”</p><p>“You know that’s not what I meant.” Monty furrowed his brow in what was probably supposed to be an intimidating glare. Warlock had grown up with Nanny Ash glaring at him, and even taking the sunglasses into account, Monty couldn’t hold a candle to her. He frowned back, waiting for Monty to go on. He didn’t mind having this conversation, but that didn’t mean he had to make it easy for the other boy. “I mean… Duffers said you, you were texting. And then an <em> angel </em>turned up.”</p><p>“What a coincidence,” Warlock conceded, trying for some of that dry humour his Nanny had always had in spades. Brother Francis, when he heard her, had always muttered about the lowest form of wit, and then Nanny Ash would say something about being incredibly witty, and Brother Francis would huff and storm off to deadhead some flowers.</p><p>“It wasn’t, though, was it, Dowser? ‘Cos the- the demon we summoned. Wellies said he was sat on your bed.”</p><p>“When did you all have <em> that </em>conversation?” Warlock was a little hurt that they’d been discussing it behind his back, if he was honest.</p><p>“History, we’re in a different set.” Warlock knew; he’d learned a very strange sort of History curriculum for a British schoolchild, between Nanny Ash’s anecdotal tuition style and his father’s insistence that he learn American History. Since his arrival at boarding school, he’d been in a sort of remedial class of his own with the History Master, who was very kindly catching him up on the sort of thing that would be on his exams. He was on track to rejoin his friends in normal classes by the end of the year, but for now he was left out of - apparently - some important discussions. “But was he?”</p><p>“Yes, he was.” Warlock shrugged. “We go way back.”</p><p> </p><p>Apparently his nonchalant air wasn’t as contagious as he’d hoped. Monty gaped at him.</p><p>“You- and the <em> demon- </em> go way back?”</p><p>“Yeah. I texted him to see if he could help with Duffers having a breakdown, and-”</p><p>“You <em> texted the demon. </em> The demon we all decided was a hallucination.”</p><p>“Well, yeah, but nobody believed that, did they? Not really.” Monty shrugged, conceding the point. “Look, it’s… a long story.”</p><p>“It’s Saturday. We’ve got time.”</p><p>“All right, then. Get comfy. And you can’t tell anyone about it, except the other three. Swear you won’t tell.”</p><p>“I swear. Go on. And I wanna know how you texted a demon and an <em> angel </em> turned up.”</p><p>“I’ll get to it.”</p><p>“Then get to it!”</p><p> </p><p>Warlock began at the beginning, with one of his earliest memories from childhood.</p><p>“When I was little, my Nanny took me out into the garden to play, and the gardener sat me down to tell me about all the creatures in the garden, and how they were all important and special. Even Brother Snail and Sister Slug,” he told him, expecting Monty to laugh. His friend’s face did twitch a bit, but curiosity seemed to win out. “Nanny didn’t like that. She told him <em> Brother Snail </em> and <em> Sister Slug </em> were the natural enemies of the gardener, and couldn’t he at least try to act like a real gardener for ten minutes? And Brother Francis - that’s the gardener - told her she could tell me the creatures of Earth were my enemies all she liked, but <em> he </em>had other work to do.”</p><p>“I don’t get what this has to do with the demon or the angel.”</p><p>“Well, Brother Francis appeared in a blaze of light the other day. He was an angel all along, as it turns out. And Nanny Ash? She was the demon we summoned.”</p><p>“Your nanny turned into a demon?”</p><p>“No, no. My nanny was always a demon. Crowley. He was very upset when we summoned him, he said it was dangerous and stupid.” Warlock shrugged. “He should know those are the fun things to do, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty was silent for a very long time. Warlock checked his phone and found a series of messages from the demon himself.</p><p>
  <em> Was there an end to that text, lamb? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Warlock? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Warlock Dowling, are you listening to me? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> If you don’t reply, I’m going to assume you’re in trouble. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And come and get you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And you’ll have to explain that to your teachers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I won’t help. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> If this is your attempt to get me to give you the answers… </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fine, the answer to question 1 is civium. But you have to tell me why. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Warlock. You do not send me half a text and then vanish. </em>
</p><p>He sighed fondly.</p><p>
  <em> Not ignoring you, talking to Monty. Sorry to worry you. </em>
</p><p>The reply was almost instant.</p><p>
  <em> Not worried. Of course I wasn’t worried. No reason to be worried. Carry on, text me later. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Your parents… hired a demon. As a <em> nanny.</em>”</p><p>“Well, they didn’t know she was a demon. They didn’t know Brother Francis was an angel, either. But the two of them- they thought I was the Antichrist, I mean literally the Antichrist. And they wanted to save the world by bringing me up right.” This had been clarified over the course of his first few phone calls to Crowley, conducted in the utmost secret in the only part of the school grounds that was both <em> outside </em> the school building itself and <em> inside </em>the patchy area that received any sort of mobile phone signal. Although, to be fair, Warlock’s phone had been getting better reception all round since Crowley’s number had been added to it. “So they pretended to be normal people. Well, they tried, anyway.”</p><p>“They wanted you to <em> not </em>be the Antichrist?” Monty scrunched his face up, thinking; Warlock nodded. “Then why not just let the angel take over?”</p><p>“Oh, I think Hell wanted Crowley- my Nanny Ash- to make me as evil as possible. Aziraphale wasn’t supposed to be there.”</p><p>“Didn’t, er…” It seemed this was a harder thing to articulate than the idea of Warlock being - or not being - the Antichrist; Warlock waited patiently and tried not to take offence. “Didn’t <em> Heaven </em> want him there? To save the world?”</p><p>Warlock shrugged. “Crowley says Heaven are a load of wankers. I was expecting Aziraphale to correct him, but he didn’t. Not sure what to make of that.”</p><p>“Puts Sunday School in a new light, doesn’t it?” Monty scoffed. “So he was working for Hell too? The angel, I mean? ‘Cos if so, we definitely shouldn’t tell Duffers-”</p><p>“No, he was working for Heaven, and Crowley was working for Hell. They say they were just working for Earth, too. And then when the time came to change sides… they chose Earth.”</p><p>“Together,” Monty pointed out. “Is that why they chose Earth?”</p><p>“Partly, I think.” Warlock shrugged. “But they <em> like </em>Earth.”</p><p>“More than Heaven?”</p><p>“Yeah. It’s got snacks.” Monty looked at him incredulously, but Warlock didn’t know what to tell him; that was what Aziraphale had said, in a faintly scandalised tone, as if he couldn’t believe it wasn’t <em> obvious </em> why they’d chosen Earth. Crowley had grumbled about his phone call being hijacked, but Warlock hadn’t minded. It was easy enough, back then, to imagine that he was just talking to Brother Francis - with a posher accent - and Nanny Ashtoreth, who seemed to switch between sounding like a posh Londoner and a Scottish lady. Warlock hoped he didn’t do that <em> all </em> the time. It would be very confusing for people. He got the feeling, though, that it was something Crowley only did when he was talking to Warlock, because when Aziraphale had heard him he’d said <em> Oh, Crowley, you old softie, </em> and then he’d refused to explain himself when Crowley asked. But the point was, it had been easy to talk to them on the phone. <em> Aziraphale, Angel of the Eastern Gate, Guardian of Eden </em> in all his blazing glory was a little difficult to handle, even for Warlock. He wasn’t sure what to make of him, let alone how to explain it to his friends.</p><p> </p><p>“So you’re saying,” Monty repeated slowly, “that an angel and a demon teamed up to raise you <em> because the Earth had snacks."</em></p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“And you’re <em> not </em>the Antichrist, right?”</p><p>“Nope. Wrong boy.”</p><p>“Good. Right. And we summoned <em> that </em>demon last term, just by coincidence?”</p><p>“Yeah. He happened to be under an angel when we summoned him,” Warlock explained, and then wondered if he was supposed to be telling people that. Well, it wasn’t as though Aziraphale hadn’t snogged him in front of everyone.</p><p>“Under- <em> oh. </em>Oh, is that what it meant? I thought it just meant, you know… below.”</p><p>“I think that was the idea. But… yeah. We were lucky, actually. Any other demon, we’d have been in trouble.”</p><p>“Or if we hadn’t been with you.” Monty’s eyes were wide and scared. “He could have killed us.”</p><p>“Nah, he wouldn’t have.”</p><p> </p><p>They sat in silence for a few more minutes, and then Warlock sighed.</p><p>“Wanna hear some stories about my childhood?”</p><p>“Your childhood with the angel and the demon?” Monty rolled his eyes. “Nah, sounds boring.”</p><p>“I’ll tell you on one condition.”</p><p>Monty leant in, no doubt expecting to be sworn to secrecy. “What is it?”</p><p>“Help me tell the others.”</p><p> </p><p>Monty had to think about it.</p><p>“Fine. You’ve got yourself a deal.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a id="note1" name="note1"></a><sup>[1]</sup> "Don't let the bastards grind you down", in crude schoolboy Latin - not actually correct. <sup>[<a href="#return1">return to text</a>]</sup></p></blockquote></div></div>
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